Christmas Children
by lifechiaroscuro
Summary: The Pevensies' growth as seen through the holidays.


_A/N: This was originally supposed to be posted over a week, since there are seven of them, but my head (subconsciously) said "no". I posted a couple, but not enough, so I've combined it into a single chapter._

_So here it is, my Christmas fic for the Narnia community._

* * *

Peter's first Christmas was incomprehensible to him, except the scare when a cousin jumps out at him, and an overall feeling of increased happiness. It is best described through the eyes of others.

Peter's first Christmas was one of joy and plenty. He was just over six months old, and quite active, though not yet able to move himself around. He was completely and absolutely spoiled by his relatives. Not that this was much of a surprise, of course. He was the first child of a couple that had known each other since childhood, yet not become sweethearts until the end of John's time at college. And the baby is positively _golden_.

So it is an especially merry Christmas this year, and they all dance happily, switching off partners until Helen has danced with Mary's husband, her father-in-law, and numerous other friends (including a joyous group if young women who sweep her round 'til they are all laughing like schoolgirls).

Peter is passed around with myriad smiles and exultations as she dances, and it is with great regret that Helen and John wearily take their leave of the group at half past eight.

She lays her baby down with reverence, and her husband kisses her cheek as Peter's little fingers wrap around hers.

* * *

The next year they don't stay long after Christmas dinner, just long enough to pass Susan carefully around, and hear Peter stumble after his mother, imploring multiple times, "Want Tim! Want Tim!"

His garbled speech makes it sound more like, "Wan Tih," the 'T' and 'N' pretty much nonexistent.

The adults laugh as Helen gives him the teddy and Susan starts at this, blinking rapidly until she realizes that this is a good thing. She coos and gives a gurgling laugh along with them, the first noise that they have heard from the quiet girl since her mother has last held her.

Then she claps her hands.

The room fills with exclamations. "A Christmas miracle!" they say as Helen takes her baby into her arms.

"My special baby girl," she murmurs. "And here's our golden boy," John adds, scooping his son off of the floor and into a hug as Peter looks up from his bear at the positive sounds.

They don't stay long at all after that, but go home to have some family time. John tells a Christmas story before bed, then they go into the nursery and sing the babies to sleep with soft carols.

"_Sleep in heavenly peace."_

* * *

The Pevensies' third Christmas as a family was almost as joyous as the first. Peter woke up in the morning wriggling with excitement.

Now two, Peter was old enough to participate in some Christmas activities, such as putting out cookies for Santa and opening his own presents.

He helped his mother hand out stockings (or tried to) as his father emerged, bleary-eyed, from Susan's bedroom, his daughter held across his chest. Peter bounced a bit as he found the candies and knick knacks. They then had a breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes (a family tradition) and opened presents. Peter helped this year, pushing presents towards his family with a good will that shone bright from his face.

"Oh! Mommy, look! I got a- a-"

"Train set, darling."

"A _train_! Jolly! Jolly, jolly jolly!" Peter exclaimed. He'd just learned the meaning of the word, and was using it incessantly.

"It is, isn't it?" John grinned at his son.

Well, Helen mused, shaking her head, that would keep _them_ busy for a while.

* * *

Susan's second Christmas is spent at home. Her mother's third child is nearly due, and third Christmas is spent at home. her mother's third child is nearly due, and the pregnancy has been hard on her.

Helen looks happy (albeit weary), though, as they sit around her bed opening presents. It is afternoon instead of morning, as her mother has just woken up, but it is almost as merry as always. She doesn't really understand _how_ she's going to get this younger sibling, but she thinks that her parents have such love for Peter and herself, and each other, that a baby couldn't mean anything bad.

Peter, usually rambunctious, is calmer than usual. Despite the energy and spirit of the Christmas season, he doesn't bounce or yell. His mother has been very tired lately, and he doesn't think she was like this with Susan. Or him.

The house has been very quiet this winter. Whenever his mother is asleep, which is often, her father says that they must be very quiet. A lot of the time, also when she is awake. His father stays with her almost constantly, and Peter can tell that he is worried, and worries also, though he doesn't really know what is happening.

John has left his son alone with Susan a couple of times lately, and he takes the responsibility seriously. Some of the Pevensies' happiest moments lately have been the results of Peter's efforts - he cannot do much, but he gives his all. Peter, too is tired this year, but he still holds his sister's hand with one of his and his mother's with the other, smiling as the presents are opened.

His little brother is born three days later, after a long and painful cacophony that has Peter horribly upset and his sister wailing. Peter almost hates the creature for putting his mother through such a thing.

But when they are finally ushered in to a pale mother and a paler baby in her arms, he doesn't know how he ever could of thought something so hurtful of the tiny white child.

* * *

By Susan's third Christmas both her mother and her younger brother have become healthy, though Edmund is still small for his age, and has never lost his pale skin tone. The little thing _has, _however, gone so far as to start walking the day before he turned nine months old. They're all calling him _precocious_ now (it has been explained to her what this means), and Susan is, as most three-year-olds are, rather put off by the sudden lack of attention. _She, _after all, was the precocious one before.

Peter, on the other hand, is fascinated by the baby. He hasn't the slightest inkling that this is the being that he will grow to have the strongest of relationships with, he just understands the concept of this little baby who will grow to be his brother.

He'd never realized before how delicate babies were, and it amazes him that something so fragile could turn into someone like his father.

He watches his brother _very _carefully whenever he notices his parents aren't, and plays with him joyfully whenever he's allowed to. So it is that they sit side by side at Christmas, playing peek-a-boo on a plush chair in the living room of Mary Benson's house. Giggling as Peter's face comes and goes and the party goes on around them. Edmund, needless to say, particularly enjoys his first Christmas.

* * *

Peter's fifth Christmas was one of discoveries.

They ate their Christmas pancakes after opening stockings, Edmund having a couple bites for the first time) as their mother feeds little Lucy. Then they open their presents and have a small lunch, then some down time. They play board games and card games and Peter has his first amazing moment.

They let him hold Lucy.

It's such a quiet, tender moment, and as he sits in his father's lap, John's arms under his, and he feels a rush of love and adoration, along with something that he will later recognize as the beginning of his overwhelming protectiveness.

He doesn't know what to do with himself, really, except smile kindly down at her as she giggles happily up at him.

His second wondrous moment comes later in the day, when the adults leave after Christmas dinner to go to the evening service. Peter, for the first time, goes with them.

He is greeted by the pastor as he enters the church, and, when he hears his parents say that he will now be coming every Sunday, smiles up at the man shyly. The man smiles kindly back down at him, and shakes peter's hand like the boy is a grown-up.

The service is not _new, _per say. His parents have told him about Christ the Savior, but he has never heard His story told like _this._

_ This _is the story of a tiny baby, who grew to save the souls of the world (then and now). The story of the purest child, and those who adored him. The story of Jesus the Lord, told with reverence.

Peter listened with a feeling of awe, and could swear he heard, at the end, a faint roar.

The story seemed to grow less novel over time, and Peter didn't enjoy church as much as he had that night, but the preacher had been right to assume he would come to know this boy well.

Nearly eleven years later, (after a visit to another world,) the Pevensies became the most devoted members of his church.

* * *

Edmund's third Christmas was one of a strange sort of urgency. Edmund had learned, by now, that the winter hols weren't to be taken for granted, given how, yes, Peter really _did _have to be gone for such a long time (almost) every day.

He was used to his father going off to work, but the departure of his brother was something new altogether. Peter was a playmate unlike Susan (who usually only wanted to play with dolls) or his parents (who never really seemed to enjoy Edmund's games the way his sibling did. Peter let Edmund play with his trains, and explained things without that know-it-all look of Susan's on his face. So yes, Edmund tried to make the most of the holidays.

Not that Peter particularly minded, but he did rather wonder why the majority of his brother's focus had suddenly shifted from his father to himself. Edmund had been going through an 'independent' stage lately, and had began to turn into something of a mischief-maker, much to Peter's (and sometimes Susan's) amusement, and their parents' s light annoyance.

He had to admit that it _was _rather annoying when Edmund interrupted him when he was in his own room, but it wasn't like he was doing anything _too_ important most of the time. So Peter enjoyed it most of the time, but still wondered _why._

It doesn't make the games any less enjoyable for either of them, however, and then they go to visit their grandparents in the country, the boys spend hours in the snow. Edmund is (nearly) four and Peter is 7 (and-a-half), but they wrestle and have snowball fights in the soft banks. They pull their sister with them to make a snowman.

Their rambunctious afternoon tires them out, of course, and it is with a fond smile that Helen finds her boys curled up on the couch together. Asleep with Edmund's head on Peter's shoulders after an afternoon of play and an evening of hot chocolate and carols. She and her husband carry them back to bed, and she tucks them both in, placing a kiss on each head of tousled hair.


End file.
